


Simon Vs. The Magical Agenda

by Capri_moon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capri_moon/pseuds/Capri_moon
Summary: Simon’s in his sixth year; he has enough to worry about already, like his falling potions grade and his very inaccurate recital of charms causing at least three fires, without constantly thinking about his over-letter boyfriend. (If he could be considered that)At least he’s managed to charm his earphones to work on castle grounds. The Great Depression, here we come.If it doesn’t have a Hogwarts AU, is it even good?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write most of this at midnight so yeah there might be mistakes. THIS HAS BEEN A PSA but seriously, thanks for reading.

It's a weirdly subtle conversation. I almost don't notice I'm being blackmailed.  
We're sitting on the edge of one of the house tables, which are pushed up to the walls to make room in the middle of the great hall, and Martin Addison says, “I read some of your letters”  
“What?” I turn on the end of the bench to look at him.  
“In the dorm room. I knew you'd been sending owls to someone, almost every night, and I kinda wanted to see who.”  
“You read my letters?”  
“Well I really needed your owl to send a letter to my brother,” He says. “and she was pecking on the dorm window. So I let her in and she dropped one off with the rest of them on your nightstand, and I was really curious.”  
I stare at him. He twirls his wand around his fingers. “So why'd you use a fake name?”  
I don't know, maybe to stop idiots like Martin freaking Addison from knowing it was me writing those letters. That worked out great.  
He must have been awake whilst I wrote the last letter. Usually I wait until way after everyone else is asleep before I write my letters. But this one was an important one, and I couldn't wait to get a reply.  
Because I was sending a letter with my secret owl. A letter to blue.  
I internally kick myself for being such an idiot, but as I do, Martin opens his mouth again.  
“You know, it's weird that I was sending a letter to my brother when I found yours.”  
“Why? What's with your brother?” My fingers feel a little shaky. I just wish he would get to the point.  
“Well, just before we came back in September, he told me he was gay. I just thought you'd be interested to know.”  
“Well. I'm not.” I turn to look at him. “What are you trying to say?”  
“Nothing, man,” He turns his palms up defensively. “I'm sure a lot of people would be cool with it. I am. You should be who you are”  
I roll my eyes and turn back to the middle of the hall. Professor Albright starts teaching the wand of movements of the spells we'll need for the second part of our act, and me and Martin end up just sitting there and listening for a while.  
After her lecture, professor Albright calls over to us. “Marty! Have you practised your patronus for the finale?”  
Martin jumps to his feet. “Yes professor,” he calls back, before turning to rummage through his bag. He straightens a second later, and hands me a stack of paper.  
“These are the original letters.” He says, smiling as if he'd done me a favour. 

“Original?”  
“Well,” He starts, rubbing the back of his head. “You know how we learned the duplication charm in charms class, you know, the one we have with Abby Suso...”  
“You duplicated them?” My voice comes out strained. I can't quite believe what I'm hearing.  
“I know you're friends with Abby, so I thought you could maybe... help me talk to her.”  
“Abby? How about instead we talk about why you've made copies of my private letters?”  
And then it kind of clicks in my brain. The duplicate letters, Martin’s weird nervousness.  
I sigh exasperatedly. “You want me to, what, put in a good word with her?”  
He nods excitedly. “If you could, that'd be great.”  
I have to stop myself from shaking my head. “And if I don't want to? Are you gonna send a duplicate to everyone? Put them on the Readers Requirement?”  
Oh god. The Readers requirement. Or Hogwarts Gossip Central, as Leah calls it. Originally the school newspaper, the makers quickly realised that not much real news happens, and it quickly devolved into gossip and rumours.  
If my letters appeared on there, the entire castle would know in a day.

“Marty!” Professor Albright almost yells across the hall. “Come on!”  
Martin goes to leave, but not before turning to me. “Come on. We're in a position to help each other here. Just think about it.”  
He untangles himself from the bench and stands up, pretty much doubling in height. “One last thing. Who's Blue?”  
“No one,” I have to look up to speak to him now. “He's a muggle.”

If Martin thinks I'm selling out blue, he's fucking crazy.

  
I'm seriously not in the mood for the Hufflepuff common room. It's not that I don't like my housemates, but I can't deal with them right now. If I walked in right now, they'd take one look at my face and sit me down in an armchair for a mandatory therapy session. The Hufflepuffs are like that.  
I stand outside the common room, by the painting of the fruit, wondering if I could manage to sneak my cat of my dorm, when I spot him on top of the pile of barrels in the corner by the window.  
Beiber always manages to smell like sunlight. Probably because he lies in it all day. As I walk over, he spots me, gives a little stretch, and hops onto my shoulders.  
“Hey man.” I mumble, leaning my head back into his fur. He must have lay in that patch of sun for a while, because he feels like a little heater on the back of my neck. He gives me a lazy meow as I start walking, passing a group of first year Hufflepuffs. One points to my shoulders, and another giggles. I swear, this cat infatuates first years almost as much as Nick’s singing voice.  
I make my way up the Ravenclaw tower, little bits of sunlight peeking through the tiny windows. When I reach the top, I just walk straight in. Why, you ask? Okay, fun story time.  
About two years ago, a 7th year Ravenclaw by the name of Alice Spier, (You guessed it. My sister!) was coming back to her dorm after studying in the library for her N.E.W.Ts. Upon climbing the stairs to top, the door asks her a riddle. In a haze of exam stress, notes and advanced potion class fumes, of course Alice can't answer. So what does she do? She pulls out her wand and blasts the door open. But that isn't enough. Sick of the constant questions, she transfigures the nearest desk into a doorstop, and jams it in the open door. When the rest of the house come down in the morning, most are happy. But some, the pretentious A-holes, as Alice calls them, are mad. They try to remove it, but can't. It's then that she tells them that she has used a permanent sticking charm to keep the stop there.  
Not the best head girl behaviour, but she did leave a legacy: the Spier Doorstop. Thanks to her, I'm pretty much an honorary Ravenclaw.

As I walk in, I scan the room, and find Leah and Nick; each sprawled on cushions at the bottom of the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw. Leah sees me first, and calls out. “Hey!” She spreads her arms, and Beiber pretty much jumps into them. I laugh. “That's fine. Greet the cat first.”  
She sticks her tongue out at me as Nick puts his book down. That's a thing about Nick. He won't put down his homework for you, but he'll put down a book.  
We sit like that for a while, Leah petting Beiber, Nick telling me about the latest book (The Sleeping Seer, a comprehensive guide to dreams, by Cassandra Trelawney)  
Leah leans over and gets me to retell the story of a kid in transfiguration class who hexed Garret Laughlin’s moustache hairs to grow really thick. “It looked like a slug!” She adds at the end, turning to Nick, laughing.  
So here's the problem.  
Leah has fallen. To Nick, and his amazing singing voice and philosophical mind. Which wouldn't be too bad, if Abby wasn't in the picture.  
And this is where I don't mind being Martin’s wingman bitch so much. If Abby gets with Martin, maybe Nick will notice Leah. And everything will kind of return to normal. Hopefully.

 


	2. Chapter 2

To blue,  
That's a pretty sexy story. I totally remember professor Beckett. Care of magical creatures, right? And a hipster beard. Totally up there with the coolest professors we've had, along with professor Albright, although I don't think I find professor Albright attractive.  
I can't really pinpoint the exact moment I really knew. It was kind of a collection of things. Professor Beckett, like you said, but a few other things as well. Do you remember collecting chocolate frog cards as kid? Because I did. My favourite was a really rare one of Viktor Krum, that Bulgarian seeker.  
There was no heterosexual explanation of why that one was my favourite. I'm not even a quidditch fan.  
And then in the third year, I had this girlfriend. It was one of those relationships that preteens have, where you have classes together but never hang out anywhere else. We held hands I guess, and we went to the Yule ball together. I spent most of the time in the corner with my friends, eating pumpkin pasties and levitating napkins, until a random girl came over and told me my girlfriend was waiting to dance with me.  
So here's my proudest moment: I ran, and hid the bathroom. I spent the entire rest of the evening hiding from my girlfriend, and ended up having a conversation with Moaning Myrtle. She's actually not that bad.  
Anyway, I'll just sign off here. I've had a weird day. -Jacques

 

 

  
To Jacques,  
Really? I've never talked to her. Partly on account of the fact that people always say she's really annoying, and partly because it's the GIRLS BATHROOM. I don't know if you realised.  
Don't you think it's kind of messed up though? There's the literally the ghost of a murdered child in the bathroom, and everyone treats it as an inconvenience.  
Sorry for getting so deep, but that always bugged me slightly.

Anyway, I do remember the chocolate frog cards. I probably still have a load of them in the bottom of my trunk. Remembering is actually getting me quite jealous; how did you get Krum? He's like the rarest. I spent half my childhood with my dad (the magical side of my family) begging for chocolate frogs just to get him.  
Sorry about your weird day. At least you have an ultra rare chocolate frog card. -Blue  
P.S - Krum is pretty hot. You have good taste.

 

 

 

  
To blue,  
Oh man. If a chocolate frog card could solve all my problems, I'd have collected all of them by now. Also, your point about Moaning Myrtle is actually quite valid. I'd never thought about it like that Surely we have some sort of ghost hunter/exterminator in our world. Not all ghosts are friendly, right? I've seen Ghostbusters. (You might not know what that is, if you're not muggleborn, but basically it's muggles using technology to fight ghosts. My best friend is really into muggle movies and TV shows.)  
-Jacques  
P.S - I did know it was the girls bathroom. I'm pretty sure it doesn't apply if it's haunted.

P.P.S - I do have good tastes. That's why I'm writing to you.


	3. Chapter 3

One of the worst parts about the Martin situation is that I can't talk about it with Blue. I'm not used to keeping secrets from him. I mean, there are tons of things we don't tell each other. Our friends, family, hobbies, classes, names. Basically anything that could reveal who we are.  
We mostly discuss deeper things, when we aren't joking - such as sexuality.  
It was strange receiving that first letter back. I remember freaking out massively, because I hadn't trained my secret owl, Oreo (Guess his colours), to bring letters straight to my dorm window. So when a random unmarked letter from an owl they've never seen before shows up for me, my friends had questions.  
I told them it was to the wrong person and rushed off to open it. I never thought I'd get a reply, to be honest, considering the way I'd messaged Blue.  
I first saw his writing as a poem, in the Flourish And Blotts summer poetry contest, which my mum made both me and my younger sister Nora to enter. We spent most of our time reading other people's stuff, until I came across one I loved. It just kind of spoke to me, and not even about the gay thing.  
It was like five lines, but it was grammatically correct and actually looked like poetry. It was about the ocean between people, and how the whole point of everything was to find a shore worth swimming to.  
I just had to know him.  
So I turned his poem over, and wrote on the back: “THIS”, along with my spare key for Oreo’s cage in the owlery, stuck on there with a little sticking charm.  
I spent the entire train ride back to school obsessing over whether he would message me back, and then he did. He told me that he was a little nervous, as he was normally so careful. But he wanted to know me, which made me feel special, and not like the actual idiot I am.  
If I told him that Martin had copies of our letters hidden away somewhere, he'd probably stop talking to me. So I can't tell him. I'd rather not lose him.

I've been avoiding Martin all week, in class and rehearsal for the end of year show. I feel like a coward. This entire situation makes me feel like a coward, because I've already agreed to help him. Or cave in to blackmail. Whatever he wants to call it.

  
My friends are especially talkative today, which kinda sucks, since I'm not really in the mood for talking. Nick and his quidditch teammates from Ravenclaw, Awkward Silence Bram and Kind Of A Prick Garret Laughlin, are discussing the teams this quidditch season. It sounds like a completely different language to me, but it's kind of perfect, since I don't mind not talking today.  
I'm mostly spending my time watching Cute Bram (Yes, I changed his name) talk quietly with Nick about tactics, when Martin appears suddenly and tries to squeeze himself between me and Garret.  
“Hey Spier, I just wanted to talk about the show,” he says, positioning his arms awkwardly on the table. The quidditch guys nod, and return to their conversation. Garret moves to give Martin more space, but he doesn't move into it. Instead, he leans even closer to me.  
“So. Where's Abby?” He whispers. His breath is terrible.  
“I don't know, maybe the Gryffindor table?” I reply. “It is her house.”  
“I know that,” he whispers, a little louder. “But she usually hangs out with you.”  
I shrug and go back to my breakfast as Leah and her friends, Morgan and Anna, chat quietly. Martin sits there awkwardly, looking around the great hall as if he hadn't seen it a thousand times, when he almost jumps off the bench right beside me.  
“Abby! Hey!” He stands up, towering over everyone at the table. “We have rehearsal later, right?”  
Abby stands there for a second, blinking, probably as surprised as the rest of our group as to why Martin Addison is even here.  
“Yeah,” she smiles. She has one of those faces that’s always smiling. “See you there!”  
Martin looks ready to explode. If this is what happens when she says the bare minimum to him, I'd hate to see what would happen if she *gasp* hugged him. Maybe he'd die on the spot, and all my problems would be solved.  
He pats me on the shoulder as Abby sits down. “Later Spier.”  
She watches him go with an amused smile. “I didn't know you were friends with Marty,” she says, plucking waffles off the platters in front of us. “It's nice.”  
I laugh a little at that.

  
“So,” Abby says, waving her wand around slightly manically. “What about that party tonight?”  
I quickly turn to her, wrapping my legs up in red fabric. Professor Albright has given us responsibility of the big curtain, for the start and end of the performance, and so we got the great idea to charm it to float, then transfiguring it to use during the performance, before turning it back to the curtain to close the show at the end.  
“We're invited to that?”

She pokes me in the rib with her wand before going to work on the curtain. “One of your best friends is now the captain of the Ravenclaw quidditch team. That comes with perks, you know.”  
“Hmm” I murmur, trying to straighten out the one half of the curtain we've gotten to float, when Martin seems to apparate right next to me.  
“What are you guys taking about?”  
I jump slightly, just as Abby's voice floats from around the other side. “Nothing, Marty. Did you want something?”  
Martin gives me this sidelong look, as if to say: come on, man. And so I start talking.  
“Oh just the party tonight. We'll be going.” I shuffle my feet, as he gives me another look, nodding his head in Abby's direction. I cave. “Do you wanna come?”  
He gives this massive grin, and for a moment I feel a little happy for him too. As if I'd just asked him to a party because I like him as a person.  
And not because he's blackmailing me.


	4. Chapter 4

As always, Halloween is amazing. Seriously, it never gets old. There's pumpkins floating everywhere in the great hall, and the enchanted ceiling is dark and stormy as we eat. All anyone around us wants to talk about is the party, which is supposedly being held in the kitchens. I glance over at Leah, and see that she looks about as awkward as I feel. We give each other knowing smiles, like secret awkward agents.  
This is what I love about Leah. We're essentially the same person: we're awkward and antisocial with most people, we pretty much have the same taste in music and we both absolutely suck at potions. (Which makes the fact we suck at potions not suck so much. Huh.)  
Although one of the biggest problems is the house stigma. You know, ‘Oh. Why's that Slytherin hanging out with that Hufflepuff? Is she bullying him or something?’ - The: ‘If you're in Slytherin then you can only hang out with other Slytherins and Ravenclaws. You know, the smart ones’  
Leah hates that with a passion.  
As we climb down the steps to the dungeon, the archways above filled with cobwebs and paper bats, Nick and Garret carry a crate between them. When Leah sees it, she turns her nose up.  
“Really guys?” She stands in front, hands on hips. “Firewhiskey?”  
Nick just gives her his signature stupid grin and carries it the rest of the way to the kitchens, going around Leah as if she might snap at him. She huffs, shaking her head at me and Abby, and follows him in. We give each other an. Uh Oh. Look, and walk in ourselves.  
By the time we enter, Garret has already cracked open the case and is handing out firewhiskey. He turns to me when I walk in.  
“Hey Spier. Sorry, there's no butterbeer.” He hands me a cup of firewhiskey instead. “Ha, a rhyme!”

I smile and nod, following Abby into the crowd. Nick is already on one of the tables, strumming his guitar, his most prized possession. A crowd of people have already gathered, some amazed by his singing voice, most probably amazed because he's actually playing it with his fingers.  
I find Leah in the corner, and slide down the wall to sit next to her. The cold of the wall hits my back, even through my hoodie, so I move a bit closer to her. She's usually a bit strange about hugs and personal space, but she doesn't seem to mind. We sit and watch the partygoers for a while.  
Someone must have brought a charmed speaker, because some kind of pop music is blasting throughout the room. Leah turns up her nose when the next song comes on, and I'm inclined to agree with her. Modern music is a little... samey.  
Abby doesn't seem to mind though. She's in the middle of the room, where most people are, dancing with Nick and Martin. Although when Abby dances she kind of goes into her own world, so Nick and Martin are kind of just shuffling nearby, while she twists her body to the music.  
Leah gives a little laugh at that. “Awkwardness achievement unlocked.”  
“Yep.” I snort. Although I kind have admire Abby. She's dancing in a room full of people she barely knows, just completely caught up in the music, with everyone watching Even Leah.  
I take a sip of my drink. It burns my throat as it goes down, but the sensation is kind of nice.  
I wish I could just let go like that. Just completely lose my self-consciousness, for once in my life, and have a good time, without caring what people think.  
I finish the rest in one go.

The moon is out and actually shining, through the low windows at the top of my common room. What an aesthetic.  
Abby flops onto one of the big squishy sofas by the fire, which is down to its embers. I reach into one of the cupboards in the corner, and pull out a folded knitted blanket.  
“God.” Abby whispers across the room at me. “You guys have everything. Blankets, pillows, food, drink. You even have plants everywhere. You even water them yourselves. Can you guys be lazy for once in a while?”  
“First of all,” I half whisper back, throwing the blanket over her. “You're a little drunk. Second of all, if we don't water the plants, how will they know we care about them?”  
She gives a little snort. “Cheesy.”  
I throw a pillow at her, and she catches it. She puts it behind her head as I turn to go upstairs.  
“And third of all, I am lazy. I don't know how I got made prefect, to be honest.”  
She gets up on her elbows as I go to turn off the lights. “Simon. You literally just put me to bed in your common room because it is, quote on quote, ‘too dangerous on those stairs drunk.’ You're perfect.”  
I smile at her and turn off the lights. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Simon.” She echoes.  
I feel warm inside, and not just from the firewhiskey.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna start writing more of the letters between Simon and Blue. They’re really fun to write. Now I know how Becky felt.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is nothing more embarrassing than having to research Harry Potter trivia to write a fic. I thought I was a true fan but apparently not.

To Jacques,  
I hope your Halloween was excellent, and that you didn't get too nauseated from eating too many sweets. I can't believe it's almost quidditch season already. I just love it so much. The atmosphere of the pitch when almost everyone from the school is packed into the stands, cheering and yelling, and the way the autumn air just smells of opportunity.  
There's also a Hogsmeade trip coming up right? God, I love that little town so much. I can’t decide whether I like the autumn, winter, spring or summer visits more. It's basically like choosing a favourite season. Which to me, the most indecisive person on earth, is impossible.  
So here I am, trying to decide my favourite season and writing to you, when I should probably start my Herbology essay. Oh no, another choice. Look what you've done.  
-Blue

 

  
To Blue,  
I'm sorry to say that your words were useless. I still felt sick. Sorry, nauseated. You're the only person I know who says that instead of nauseous, which I think is pretty cool.  
Oh man. Herbology? I'm probably not much help there. One time in the third year i had to go to the hospital wing after my first time in the school greenhouses. I don't even know why, but for some reason I thought I was too cool for big fluffy earmuffs, and ended up blacking out for the entire rest of the day, all because I thought I was tougher than a baby mandrake. I'm not the best person to come to for help in that subject. Andquidditch? What's that?  
Just kidding. I played in the kids league. You know, the one where the kids go around on toy brooms like one foot off the ground, and the quaffle is made of foam? Good times, good times.  
Hogsmeade, though? Talk to me. I'm almost out of sweets I brought from home. Catch me at Honeydukes buying the entire stock of Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties. Although I have to admit, none of these beat Oreos. The undisputed best food of all time. And invented by muggles no less. If Honeydukes sold those, they'd see profits rise by 100%. No kidding.  
-Jacques


	6. Chapter 6

Even though I pretty much almost died in here, I still love the way the greenhouses look. As I'm sat waiting for professor Wise to hand back our Herbology essays, I watch the sun coming in through the gaps in the greenhouse roof, where it either isn't too dirty or covered in vines. Tiny specks dance in the rays. I'm not sure what they are: dirt, dust or pollen. I just know they look pretty.  
I jump when professor Wise hands me my essay. It's already flipped, so I can see my score. One hundred? I wouldn't say I was bad at Herbology, but I'm definitely not good enough for this score. I flip the parchment back over, and scan it. Sure enough, it's not my name; Bram Greenfield is written at the top in neat, vertical handwriting.  
I lean over on my stool and tap Bram on the shoulder. He turns as I hold out his essay. “Hey man. This is yours. Professor Wise gave me the wrong one.”  
“Oh. Thanks.” He replies quietly, blushing. He must be embarrassed at me seeing his score.  
“I'd keep the score if I could.” I give him a smile, and he gives me one back. From across my table, I hear Martin. Again.  
“Spier,” He half whispers, half shouts. “Can I work with you today?”  
I turn away from Bram. “I'm sort of working with Abby.”  
He raises his eyebrows, and I sigh. “Fine.”  
He grins at me as Abby comes back with all the stuff we'll need: a Venomous Tentacular, clippers and dragon-hide gloves.  
“Professor says that we need to be careful around the vines and thorns.” She says to me. Martin nods his head, his long hair flopping around his head. Abby gives me a questioning look.  
“Oh. Can Martin work with us today?” As I ask, She grimaces, but manages to turn it into a smile.  
“Sure!” She hands Martin the clippers and gloves. “We're collecting the venom off the end of the vines. Professor Dillinger wants them for her seventh year potion class.”  
Martins eyes widen. He hands the clippers to me. “So. Are you guys going to rehearsal today?”  
“It's optional now?” I hand the clippers back to Martin and do this thing with my eyes where I cut them to the side. It's way more subtle than eye rolling and much more effective. Abby laughs.  
Martins face goes all red and blotchy. “So, Spier. I was thinking of introducing you to my brother.” He stares right at me. “You have a lot in common.”  
So he's threatening me. He's actually going to make me do this.  
“Sure.” I reply. Abby looks between us, confused. “So. What about the Hogsmeade trip coming up?” I turn to Abby. “Martin was saying he was having trouble remembering some of his charms, for the show. We were gonna go to the Three Broomsticks and run them. Do you wanna come?”  
“Oh my god Simon, that would be great!” She gives me and Martin the biggest smile, and takes the clippers from Martin and gets to work on the plant. “You're the best, you know that?  
Except I'm not. I'm really not.

 

I throw myself down onto the bench besides Leah. She and Garret are in the middle of an argument, but she takes the time to give me a little smile. I smile back weakly. After everything today, I feel terrible.  
“Come on, you must have heard of the Hobgoblins!”  
“Nope.” Leah replies, as Garret slaps his hand on the table. “I mostly listen to muggle music.”  
He shakes his head and goes back to his dinner. Tonight it's a roast, with a selection of meats and vegetables. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't have many greens.  
“Hey.” Nick says, sliding onto the bench across from us. “So I was thinking.”  
“Oh no.” Leah mutters, and the rest of us laugh. She goes a little red, but I can see she's pleased.  
“Um, So I thought we could go to the house assembly.”  
Leah and I exchange glances. I have a half formed idea in my mind of why Nick wants to go, and I bet she has too. She pushes her food around her plate.  
“I thought it was Gryffindors turn for the assembly.” Leah stares at her plate. “And we never go to assemblies anyway. What about the room of requirement?”  
Leah, Nick and I have this tradition of always blowing off house assemblies, and we have since the second year. Instead, we hang out in the room of requirement. Usually, it turns into Nick's basement at home, where we hang out in the summer. It has bean bags and a sofa, but more importantly, to Nick and Leah, a PS4. We don't know how it works. Don't ask.  
We sit around the table for a long time in awkward silence, until Abby makes her way over. She babbles for a few seconds about Gobstones club, before noticing the awkwardness.  
“What's going on guys?”  
“Nothing.” Nick lies, flashing Abby a quick smile.  
“Ok.” She replies, but she doesn't seem convinced. “Anyway. Are you guys ready for the assembly tonight? I'm getting that award for hosting charms club, remember?”  
As we nod, she touches the inside of Nick's arm. “Thanks for saying you'll come. It means a lot to me.”  
Nick’s cheeks are pink. “Uh huh.” He manages to mumble.  
Abruptly, Leah throws down her knife and fork. I watch as they clatter for a second, and by the time I look up, she has her bag and is halfway out of the hall.


	7. Chapter 7

If things get any more awkward, I swear to god, I'll slide down my chair and die here on the spot. We're in the Three Broomsticks, just practising charm recitals. It's pretty chill, right up to moment when Martin reaches across the table and wipes away some butterbeer foam off Abby's face. It's almost like he doesn't want to her to like him.  
“So.” I try to make a dent in the silence. “Engorgio Maxima should return the curtain to its normal size at the end. Martin, if you learn that, Abby and I will be at either end, using Wingardium Leviosa to hold them up after, and end the show.”  
“Uh hum.” Martin mumbles. He's spent the last minute staring into his empty mug. He glances at Abby, who shifts her chair backwards, just in case he decides to stroke her face again.  
She nods and, after a few seconds, gives me a shrewd smile.  
“That's if you can pull off a complex spell such as Wingardium Leviosa.”  
I grin. “I'll try not to start another fire.”  
Martin laughs. It's a more like a snort. “Hey guys. Wanna see something?” He retrieves his wand from his pocket. Abby and I exchange looks.  
“Sure.” She shrugs.  
Martin mutters and waves his wand, the final flourish hitting the edge of the table. Wisps of silver emerge, and after a few seconds, form into a small white blob with four legs.  
“A rat.” I say as Abby gasps. Martin shoots me a harsh look.  
“It's a mouse, actually.” He says defensively, as it scurries along the table. Abby reaches forward and picks it up, bringing it closer to her face. It gives a little squeak, it's silvery light a contrast to her dark skin.  
“Martin.” She whispers excitedly. “What did you think about?”  
He draws himself up, sitting straight in his chair, and my heart freezes. I get ready for him to declare his undying love for Abby right here, when he says simply:  
“I just thought of us performing at the end of the year together. I imagine the show being amazing, and everything going perfectly.”  
I sigh inwardly as Abby gives him what I think is a genuine smile. Thank god.

 

“So.” I nudge Abby as soon as Martin leaves for the Hufflepuff common room. She nudges me back, and that combined with the moving stairs almost unbalances me.  
She snorts. “What?”  
“You know.” I gesture vaguely. She raises her eyebrows, which are perfectly done as always. “Martin. Do you like him?”  
She gives a little smile. “You know, I wasn't sure at first. But yeah, he's sweet. I feel kinda bad though.”  
“Why?” My insides clench a little at the idea of anyone feeling anything but contempt for Martin Addison.  
She bites her lip. “Well, at the bar, when we were getting drinks, it sort of seemed like he was asking me to be his duelling club partner?”  
“And?” I turn to her as we get off the stairs, as we make our way down the corridor. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the people in the paintings nearby are straining to hear our conversation. I raise my voice a little. I may as well make their day a little more interesting. “What did you say?”  
“I told him I already said I was doing it with Ty Allen. He asked me in Defence Against the Dark Arts like two weeks ago.”  
“Really? Why didn't I know?”  
“I didn't think it was that important. You're already partnered with Leah.” She raises her eyebrows again.  
“What's that supposed to mean?”  
We reach the painting at the end of the corridor. “Mimbulus Mimbletonia.” Abby recites. As she climbs through the entrance to the common room, she talks ahead of her. “It's just that you and Leah...you were really cute at the party.”  
I resist the urge to laugh as I follow her into the Gryffindor common room. “You think I like Leah.”  
But I'm gay. GAY. Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy.  
She turns to me and gives me an embarrassed smile. “I don't know. I haven't know you guys for that long.”  
A few Gryffindors look up as we enter, unsurprised. I've been a common occurrence since I met Abby. I quite like the Gryffindors. I feel like whenever I hang out with Leah or Nick in their common rooms, people are looking down at me, like, ‘Look at this dumb Hufflepuff. What's he doing here?’  
I don't know. But the Gryffindors are very welcoming. Not as much as my house though. If there's one thing we're good at, it's being nice as heck.  
I collapse into one of the big squishy armchairs by the fire as Abby climbs the stairs up to her dorm to get the textbooks we’ll need. Ever since she told me that in the Gryffindor tower the stairs turn into a slide if a boy steps on them, I've wondered if that applies to me. You know, since I wouldn't be going up there to peek on girls.  
Abby interrupts me mid thought to drop a pile of textbooks on me. I laugh, winded, and get to work finding the stuff we need.

 

By the time Abby thinks we've studied enough - so several hours later - the common room is empty. The fire has burnt out, leaving only embers, and we're kinda just sat there in the quiet.  
An insane thought runs through my head. I dismiss it immediately. No way. But. This is pretty much the only privacy we'll ever get in this castle. And after all those butterbeers and Oreos I must be feeling confident.  
I feel this tug at my chest. I should really just tell her.  
So I lean over and nudge Abby. “Hey. I wanted to tell you something.”  
She turns her head sideways on her chair to look at me. Her eyes are still half closed. “Sure. What's up?”  
For such a calm atmosphere, my heart is hammering. Maybe Abby can see it, because she sits up on her armchair and faces me. “You know you can tell me whatever. I won't tell.”  
“That's good.” I manage. I realise I haven't really been breathing, and that actually, breathing is quite important. “Because you can't.”   
So I take a deep breath. “The thing is, I'm gay.”  
She's out of her chair in a moment, hugging me so tight I might as well of told her I was dying.  
“Oh Si.” She cups her hands around my face. “I'm so honoured that you told me.” It's the first time I've said it out loud.  
I come back into focus on Abby's face. It's all I can see, with her hands cupped around mine. In the dim light of the room they're all pupil, dark orbs, ringed with brown.  
“Is this the first time you've told anyone?”  
I nod, and she hugs me again, even tighter. “Just remember I love you, ok.”  
“Ok. Thanks.”  
She pokes me in the cheek. “Now go to bed. Back to your perfect dorm with plants and blankets and cats.”  
And so I do.


	8. Chapter 8

So I guess I end up going to the house assembly. As I slide onto the bench beside Nick I try not to think about Leah, sat on a bean bag in the room of requirement by herself.  
I push it away. She's probably hanging out with Morgan and Anna. She's not completely alone.  
Still. The thought lodges itself into my mind.  
I snap back to reality when Abby's name is called. As she goes to the front to collect a box of crystallised pineapple, we clap, and everyone else is pretty much drowned out by Nick. A few Gryffindors turn to look at us, including Cal Price, from rehearsal. As Abby sits back down, he leans over the table toward me. He looks to see Professor Dillinger isn't watching, and then turns back to me, and whispers “Hey. What are you doing here?” His eyes are blue-green, like the ocean.  
I sit there, my brain not working for like ten seconds, when Nick jumps in to save me.  
“We're here to see Abby get her award!” He puts his arm around her, and she giggles. “Isn't she amazing?”  
“She sure is.” He replies, and turns back to me. “So. Third wheeling?”  
He motions to Abby and Nick.  
I laugh nervously, trying to stop my brain from jumping to the massive conclusion that Cal Price is flirting with me. “They're not together, but it feels like it.” Whew. My tongue works.  
“And you?” He picks a few grapes off the platters in the middle of the table. The house elves like to leave out snacks for house assemblies.  
I take the opportunity to get a look at him again, and to realise that he might actually be flirting with me.  
“Just my cat and Oreos.” I kick myself instantly, but he laughs. He has a nice laugh. 

“Oreos? Aren't they that muggle food?”  
“Yeah.” I reply. I must sound disappointed, because he frowns and turns back to the assembly, with a simple: “It was good to see you.”  
If he sounded any different talking about Oreos, I didn't hear it.  
Abby pokes me in shoulder, and holds out the box of crystallised pineapple.  
“Hey. You want one?”  
I put on a smile and pop one in my mouth. The taste is that sweet and tangy it almost hurts; I can't help but pull a face.  
Abby bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, Simon, you complete ham.”  
I can't help but smile for real this time.  
“Now come on.” She takes my arm. “The match starts in like, 15 minutes.”

 

 

  
By the time we get there, Leah's already here. She's bundled up in a massive coat and scarf, yelling over the wind at a bunch of Ravenclaws. Taking orders from the big bossy ball of wool, Abby and I watch as the Ravenclaws manage to raise the banner they've probably been grappling with for the last five minutes.  
She turns proudly to Abby and me.

“Hey Leah!” Abby calls over the wind. “Did you make that?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Leah replies, smiling awkwardly.  
“Well. It's amazing. Really, it is.”  
And she's right. The banner is a background of Ravenclaw blue, and the art is a quidditch field, with ravens flying in the air around it. As we watch, the eagles swoop around the pitch. One even flies through one of the hoops.  
Leah's cheeks are tomato red, and as we sit down, she won't look up. Anyone else might think it's because it's cold, but I know that it's because she's embarrassed about everyone seeing her art.  
“Hey,” I nudge her in the side. She turns to me, and I give her a grin. “You've gotten really good at that, you know.”  
“Thanks.” She turns back to look out over the pitch. “And I'm sorry. For overreacting.”  
I turn in my seat to look straight at her. “Hey. You've got nothing to be sorry for. I should have considered how you felt.”  
I take her hand. “Plus, the assembly was boring anyway. I'd much rather hang out with you.”  
She laughs, and suddenly, everything is back to normal.  
And as we're waiting for the match to start, with the cold autumn air and the crowd cheering and chanting, a jolt of excitement runs through me. Blue loves this atmosphere. And he's most likely somewhere in this stadium.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t forgotten some of the characters. I just haven’t found a way to implement them into this universe yet. I promise.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back after like two weeks with only a small, badly written chapter? You know it!   
> (I do have an actual excuse - Exams and revision and whatnot.)

To Blue,  
Uuugggghh. I'm so tired my face hurts. How do people who party all the time manage? All I did was stay up late for ONE night, and get up early the next day. I just finished my defence against the dark arts essay. Man, I thought Professor Albright was cool. She definitely won't think the same of me when she reads my grammatically incorrect essay on the implications of magic and crime.  
Speaking of being grammatically correct, how are you? I realise we haven't caught up in a while, because it's already nearly Christmas. Are you staying for the holidays? I am. Most of my friends aren't, but I don't mind. Home hasn't really been the same since my sister left. She's insanely cool, don't get me wrong - curse breaking in Peru? Awesome. But she was kind of the catalyst between me, my sister, and my parents. Now it's kind of awkward.  
Talking of awkward. I CAME OUT TO MY FRIEND. So yeah. There you go. I guess you inspired me or something like that. It’s nice to have someone to talk about gay stuff with.  
Sorry for ranting. I guess when I get really tired I spill all my emotions. But only to cute, grammatically-correct-all-the-time, over letter guys, so in a way, you should be honoured.  
-Love, Zombie Jacques

 

 

 

To Jacques,  
Wow. That's a lot of info to handle. Most importantly, well done! I'm guessing they reacted well, as you didn't just write down a load of sad face emojis and send that. (Yeah. I know what emojis are. Deal with it.)  
So. Christmas? Ugh. First of all, I don't even celebrate it. Second of all, I might just skip the whole ‘am I going to mums house, or my dads house for the holidays’ this year and just stay at Hogwarts. And third of all, then again, if I can pin down one of them, it'll be the perfect time to turn it into a coming out thing. I'm still debating, but if you can do it, then so can I.  
(That sounds like a jab. Oops.)  
And last of all, I could tell you were tired when you wrote this, because there's like three (slightly) personal details. Call me crazy, but maybe I prefer Zombie Jacques.  
Love, Blue.  
P.S - I wrote this on the back of your previous letter so you wouldn't worry about what you wrote.


	10. Chapter 10

I groan and throw myself down into my pillows. Beiber, who was sat in my lap, repositions himself on top of my chest, and starts purring. I laugh and scratch his ears.  
“Thanks, Beibs.” I whisper, and he scrunches his cute little face up. I sigh. “But it still doesn't change the fact that I pretty much drunk-lettered Blue.”  
Beiber extends his paw over my heart. He's probably stretching, but I'm still heartwarmed.  
I reach into my draw, pushing aside all the Blue letters, and grab my phone, Beiber meowing in protest of my movement.  
Of course, the internet doesn't work, so I have my music downloaded. I've been trying to get the Hufflepuff common room a WiFi router for years now, but Professor Albright won't give in. Even when we told her that we'd be the coolest house, she only wavered a little.  
I'm only halfway through the first Elliot Smith song when Martin strides in, wearing the most red shirt I have ever seen. On the front, written in gold foil, it says: HONORARY GRYFFINDOR.  
I sit up, taking Beiber in my arms. “Martin. What is that?”  
I shake my head as he poses for me. Beiber, instead of squirming in my arms, like he usually does, just stares at Martin, looking ready to pounce. Maybe he can tell that Martin is the bane of my existence.  
He gives me grin that's too wide for his face, and hops onto his bed.  
“It's cool, right?” He says enthusiastically. “Do you think it'll impress Abby?”  
I swing my legs over the side of my bed and take out an earphone, giving Martin a frown.  
“Not unless she gave it to you. Otherwise you're just sucking up.”  
His face falls, and I don't really care. Part of me feels bad for thinking that, and the other half delights in it. I roll back onto my bed, Beiber curled up on my stomach.  
We stay like that for a while, the bittersweet sounds of Elliot Smith in my ears, Beiber purring and Martin awkwardly perched on his bed, until he jumps up.  
“I'm heading to rehearsal. You coming?”  
His face is a little hopeful.  
I look up at Martin slowly through half closed eyes.  
“I'll be down in a bit.”  
He nods and trudges away.  


 

 

“Hey! Simon!” Abby waves to me across the hall. I wave back, and as I do she raises her wand, and the red velvet curtains float above her. I jog over and give her a high five.  
“Wow.” I say, and she grins. “You did it! We've finished!”  
I go for another high five, and she takes it.  
“Well. Martin helped.” She admits, nodding her head toward him. I notice him now, standing there smiling to himself, and roll my eyes.  
“I can't wait to actually perform it now.” I say to Abby, and she laughs.  
“Hold your horses, Si. The actual show is in like two months.”  
I nod and turn to watch the rest of the great hall. The rest of the performers are still practising, as their spells and routines are more complicated. Plus, most aren't working in teams.  
I spot a familiar face along the benches.  
“Nora!” I say as I sit down next to her. She whips around, wand pointed at my face, before she realises it's me.  
“Simon! Don't creep up like that!” She whisper yells.  
I laugh. “Sorry Nora. How's your stuff coming along?”  
“My ‘stuff’ is going fine, thank you Simon,” She huffs irritably, waving her wand. A bunch of different brightly coloured blobs fly from the end. “Except, I don't really think canaries are supposed to be neon pink, green and blue.”  
I stifle a laugh as the glowstick canaries flap around the great hall. She gives me a smile out of the corner of her mouth, then turns back to the birds, doing laps of the hall. Muttering under her breath, Nora points her wand at each canary individually.  
I let out another laugh as people watching gasp. Each bird, when pointed at, explodes into a puff of neon coloured smoke, and feathers rain down all over the hall.  
Everyone claps. A few people laugh. One whistles. Nora slumps down onto the bench next to me, her face red.  
I nudge her in the side, and she nudges me right back.  
“Hey.” I nudge her again. “You'll get it. Plus, no-one cares if you get it wrong. Everyone does it.”  
She moves, and I flinch a little, ready for the elbow, when she pulls me into a hug. “Thanks Si.” She murmurs, her voice muffled in my hoodie.  
I squeeze tight, and she pulls away, laughing. 

“Hey.” She points behind me. “I think Abby's trying to get your attention.”  
I turn to see Abby, jumping up and down, waving her arms toward me. She and Martin cheer when I spot them, and we both laugh.  
“Okay, I'd best get going then.” I say. “You'll be okay though?”  
She gives me a quick thumbs up. I flash one back, and jog off toward the doors.

 

 

  
Abby cheers when Nick scores, even if it is only practise. Martin must have had enough of that, so he leaves pretty early. Not that we really notice.  
She turns to me as the team practise passing, above our heads.  
“So.” She grins, and I feel a little nervous. “Which member of the Ravenclaw team is hottest?”  
I glance away from her as Nick throws the quaffle across the length of the pitch. Bram speeds down, close to the ground, and catches it a second before it lands in the mud. I look back, and Abby's still watching me.  
“Oh um.” I put on a stretched smile. “Garret.”  
“Ha ha, Simon.” She deadpans, rolling her eyes before looking at me suspiciously.  
I mean, why would that not be suspicious? I'm such an idiot.  
Nick pretty much saves me. Him and the rest of the team land beside us, as Abby goes into an in-depth explanation on show preparations. They nod and smile, until Nick starts to talk about tryouts, where they all start adding their own commentary. They all pretty much have their own opinions on each person trying out for the team.  
“So us here are all pretty much guaranteed to get back on the team.” Garret finishes. “That sucks though.” I add, and now everyone's looking. “That you have to re-audition for the team when you're already on it, I mean.” I add quickly.  
Mia, Nick and Garret all snicker.  
“Audition?” Bram asks, grinning, and can feel my face heating up. “Sorry!” I stammer. “I'm a bit of a...”  
“Theatre nerd?” Garret interjects, and I nod.  
“I don't really watch or play quidditch or anything, so I-“  
“Hey.” He cuts me off, still smiling. “It's fine.”  
He has dimples on his cheeks that make me want to make him smile, just so I can see them more.  
So I shut up and smile back.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time, where we trash talk Taylor Metternich


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I lied, we’re actually trash talking Martin today, folks.

I say bye to Abby at the grand staircase and make my way down to the dungeon. I've had one earphone in since we left quidditch practice, and the soundtrack of this evening (Sufjan Stevens, mostly), plus hanging out with Abby and Nick, leaves me in a good mood. I trace my finger along the wall as I walk, the golden light from the small ceiling windows looking like one of Abby's Instagram filters.  
I turn the corner to the common room entrance to find Martin, perched awkwardly on the barrels beside the painting. He stands when he sees me, and advances quickly.

“Spier!” He hisses. His eyebrows are so close together they're almost touching, and he bares his teeth when he speaks. “What was that before? Abby pretty much ignored me the entire time!”  
I shrug and go to move past him, but he blocks me. I take a step back.  
“Listen, Martin.” I say, trying to stay calm and reasonable. “I can't make Abby like you. I can help you, but I can't force her.”  
He shuffles his feet, more sullen now than angry or annoyed.  
“Well you obviously haven't helped enough.” He mutters, staring at me to try and make his point.  
“Haven't helped enough?” I choke out incredulously. “Martin, all I've done is help you. The party, working together in Herbology, The Three Broomsticks, all of that was me.”

“Oh yeah?” He looks away pointedly. “Was flirting with her for the past few weeks ‘helping’?”  
I stand there, shocked, for a few seconds, before replying, uttering each syllable slowly. “Martin. I am gay. You know that.”  
He stares, before bursting out again. “Yeah? Well it hasn't looked that way!” He's gesturing wildly with his hands now. “You're always touching. She's always holding your hand or hugging you or something, and you're always laughing at some inside joke that you obviously don't care enough to tell me about!”  
His chest rises and falls rapidly. I can tell he's mad. Furious. But I am too. I clench my hands into fists at my sides.  
“You. Are asking me. If I care about you?” I say coldly.  
He nods quickly. “It's just that-“  
“You're blackmailing me!” I yell, cutting him off. “And you want me to care about your feelings?”  
His eyes widen. “Blackmail? That's not what it is.”  
My palms hurt where my nails are digging in. “Oh yeah? Well what do you call it, Martin?”  
He straightens up fully, trying to look dignified. “I just thought we could help each other out.”

“Help each other-“ I start, but he claps me on the shoulder as he walks past, winding me.  
“You know what Spier?” He says, not turning to look at me. “I've given up. She obviously doesn’t like me.”  
I say nothing, and just watch him walk away. My mind doesn't go to the letters until my anger subsides, making way for an almost sickening wave of anxiety.  
I should run after him, I think to myself but I couldn't take it. Not another confrontation.

 

 

  
It's the next morning when Leah finds me, face down, hoodie up, at the Hufflepuff table. Ty Allen moves to make a space for her, so she's in prime location to whisper into my hoodie.  
“Are you okay, Simon?” She asks, and her voice sounds weird. A little strained.  
I deflect her questions with a simple ‘yes’, ‘no’, or ‘Hhmmff’, which seems to satisfy her.  
“Okay, Si.” She says soothingly, probably conversing non-verbally with everyone around me as she speaks. “I'll see you at Hogsmeade, yeah?”  
I give her a ‘hhmmff’, and she pats me on the back and leaves. I'd almost forgotten about the Christmas Hogsmeade trip. I shouldn't, of course, as this one is special. I'd forgotten to ask Nora about it, but seeing as she hasn't said anything, I'm assuming it's fine.  
Basically, because so many people stay over the holidays now, parents started to get a bit antsy. So one year, a group of parents made their way up to Hogsmeade, and arranged meet ups with their kids. This meant they still saw family, and let the kids have fun over the holidays. It quickly became a tradition, at least in our year.

  
I manage a few waffles, before I get up and leave. On my way out, a few people stare and give me strange looks. Probably because my eyes are red from crying, and have dark circles under them, plus I still have my hoodie up. I tug it down and fast walk out, trying to remember where Nora said to meet her.


	12. Chapter 12

Nora narrows her eyes when she sees me across the courtyard, and looks me up and down when I stop right in front of her. “You're going out in those?” She asks, tapping my foot with hers.  
“What?” I ask, and follow her gaze. “Oh.” I say, realising she's talking about my shoes.

“Simon.” Her eyebrows are raised. “You can't go out into the snow in converse.”  
I give her a grin and pull my wand from my middle hoodie pocket. “Impervious.” I say. She stares at my feet, hoping to see a change. I stick my foot into a nearby pile of snow, and it comes out completely dry.  
Nora just sighs, her breath coming out like steam. “Anything for fashion, huh, Si?”  
I laugh and stuff my hands into my pockets, away from the bitter cold. “So.” I ask as we start walking. “Where are mum and dad gonna meet us?”  
After a minute, she shakes her head and shoves her hands into the pocket of her parka. “You really haven't seen it yet, have you?”  
The tone of her voice makes me stop in my tracks. We're on the middle of the bridge, alone, a great emptiness all around. Nora turns to me, the look of pity on her face matching her voice.  
“What?” My breath mists up, and for a moment I only see white. Wordlessly, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a wad of paper. A newspaper.  
“I'm sorry, Si.”  
She presses the paper into my hands.  
It’s on the front page. Not the big story, but at least a third of the headline page. And it has a title.  
‘SECRET GAY LOVE LETTERS?’  
The loudness of the words, even on paper, make me flinch. I take deep breaths to clear my thoughts, which are going at fifty miles an hour, but the freezing air only burns my throat.  
The pictures. Continued on page three. The letters, my nightstand, my owl. All of it, there, for the entire school to see. And the article itself. Written with the help of anonymous.  
‘The letters belong to Simon Spier, our source, who would like to stay anonymous, says. Apparently, he has a secret owl, only used for these types of letter’-  
Nora places her hand on my arm. “I'm sorry, Simon.” She whispers, barely audible over the wind. “At least it isn't the headline.”  
Apparently, I didn't let out all of my anger on Martin.  
“Well it doesn't matter now, does it?” I burst out, and Nora jumps.  
“Well, not as many-“  
“It's still on the fucking newspaper, isn't it?” I shout, gesturing to the paper in my hand. “And people will still talk!”  
Her eyes are watery, her hands shaking. “I'm sorry!” She manages, voice trembling as she pushes past me.  
“We'll be in The Three Broomsticks if you still want to come.”  
I stand there, speechless, as she walks away. I take the paper in my hand and scan it one last time. The cold air seems to seep into my chest, and tears spring to my eyes as I throw the paper off the side of the bridge. It flutters for a while, before disappearing into the white below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, (its big on plot tho) I’m tired but I really wanted this out. At least it’s summer soon, and so hopefully I can get to writing more often over the holidays and get this story finished. (Plus I’m thinking of ways to incorporate The Upside Of Unrequited and Leah On The Offbeat into this world? Someone curb my ambition)


	13. Chapter 13

I spend the whole trek to Hogsmeade alone. Just me and my thoughts. My mind races to each possible outcome, and my stomach turns at each; they all end up with everyone finding out. There's nothing I can do, except beat myself up about what I could’ve done better.  
My feet are damp, my stupid Impervious charm didn't work, and I want to scream. Maybe if I do it in the shrieking shack, everyone will just think it's a ghost, and leave me alone.  
I pass through a gate into the main village street. Despite the freezing cold and the snowfall, it's still busy, the pavement and shop entrances bustling with witches and wizards, clutching their various packages under their robes to stop them from getting wet.  
I join the crowd, and get a few sidelong looks. Not many people wear ‘muggle’ clothes here.  
The shops I pass make me wish I had more money. I almost stop outside of Belinda’s Bewitching Baked Goods, just to appreciate the warm air and the amazing smell that comes out whenever the shop door opens.  
I can't though. I'm already late.  
The thought of meeting my parents after this makes my heart twist confusedly. I get the same feeling as I had before I came out to Abby; scared, but strangely bold. Except this time, a cold feeling of terror. It was different with Abby. I’ve known her for three months, but my parents? I've known them for sixteen years. Hell, they were the first people I ever knew. Maybe I'm afraid that the way they'll see me might change. With Alice gone, I don't want them to feel like they've lost me as well.  
Turning the corner into the village centre, I notice two familiar people out of the corner of my eye.  
Leah and Nick are stood across the road outside Zonko’s Joke Shop. They're holding sweets, so they must have been to Honeydukes as well. I pause for a second, watching them laugh, before I turn to hurry away.  
“Si! Simon!”  
I stop and turn. Leah is running headlong toward me across the street, her long coat billowing in the wind. She pulls me into a bear hug, and I watch over her shoulder as Nick jogs over. He gives me a quick smile before taking his place next to Leah.  
“Hey Si! How are you?” She stutters, smiling weakly.  
“Good. Good.” I reply, nodding my head nervously as Nick stares at me. Leah elbows him.  
“We just... wanted to check up on you, that's all.” She says, as Nick complains.  
I nod entirely too much. “Fine. I'm fine. Thanks.” 

She tucks some strands of coppery brown hair back under her bobble hat. “Well, if you ever want to talk...”  
“Right, okay. Um, thanks.” My palms are sweaty, even in this cold. “I've got to, um, go now. See my parents and stuff.”  
She jumps, almost coming back to life. “Oh! Okay then. Well, see you around, Si!” She takes Nick, who is still staring at me, by the arm, and pretty much drags him down the street. I watch them go for a second before turning the corner.

  
The Hogsmeade village centre is crowded, to say the least. The street stalls are out for Christmas, owners calling out their products from their stands, as witches and wizards bustle past, arms full of presents. In the centre of the square, what must be at least a twenty foot tall Christmas tree towers over the passers-by, and even some of the surrounding buildings. A choir of carollers singing at its base.  
I breathe in the smell of woodsmoke and the aroma of the food stalls. I don't know about Blue, but this is my favourite season.  
I try not to think about it that much. About him that much. The thought of Blue knowing who I am, but me not knowing him, fills me with a kind of dread.  
I ignore it as I make my way across the square, weaving through the crowds. If this is how busy Hogsmeade gets, I wouldn't like to be in Diagon Alley right now.

  
The Three Broomsticks is probably the most crowded place in the village, but knowing my mum, she dragged my dad along an hour or two early to get seats. I manage to squeeze through the doorway, and scan the room for my family.  
“Simon!” I hear, barely, over the noise of the tavern. I look for it and see Nora, stood on her seat, waving me over. She's still smiling, despite everything.  
My mum slides out of the booth when I manage to make my way over, and wraps me in a hug.  
We stand there hugging for a while, and for a moment, I consider not doing it. It would be easier, to deny it. To hide it. To preserve this little bubble of happiness and normal-ness, where nothing has changed, and I can stay as normal Simon, the one my parents know.  
But then I see Nora over mum’s shoulder, eyebrows raised, as if in question. And I remember hugging Abby, her arms fiercely tight, as she whispered in my ear.  
‘ _Just remember I love you, okay?’_  
I take a deep breath and untangle myself from my mum’s arms, sliding into the booth besides Nora, across from my dad.  
“Hey bud,” My dad grins, holding out his fist for a fist bump. I roll my eyes and sigh, but give him one anyway. He laughs at that, and pushes a butterbeer across the table to me.

My mum gives a little clap. “So. Now we've got you both together, tell us about your terms!”  
Nora goes off on a rant about OWLs straight away, talking about how much homework they get. (On top of revising as well!)  
I don't even notice when she finishes, until my mum touches my arm. I realise she and dad are watching me, brows furrowed.  
“Are you okay, Si?” My dad asks, and I guess it’s now or never. I tell them now, on my own terms, or they find a copy of the school newspaper themselves.  
I clear my throat. “Actually, there is something I wanted to talk about with you guys.”

My mum leans in, ready to listen. My dad just grins.  
“Let me guess. Um, you’re a dark wizard? You're an animagus? No.” He snaps his fingers. “You're pregnant!”  
Emily Spier just punches him in the arm. “You were saying, honey?”  
Here we go.  
“I'm, uh, I'm gay.” I manage. Silence. I stare into my mug for as long as I can get away with it.  
My mum breaks the silence. “Oh, Si, that’s wonderful, thank you for telling us.”  
She takes my hand across the table, smiling warmly. Nora squeezes my shoulder. Jack Spier looks away, coughing weakly.  
He slips out of the booth.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like shortest chapter I’ve ever written so sorry about that! I’m definitely getting on to some bigger stuff soon, I promise!

Dear Blue,  
                I just need to let you know that pretty soon, you're probably going to find out who I am. And you're also going to see that someone leaked our letters. All of them. I'm so sorry Blue, but I need you to know that it wasn't my fault, and I need you to promise me that you won't disappear. I need you. 

Love, Jacques


End file.
